The Real George Weasley
by George Weasley's Girlfriend
Summary: A side of George Weasley that JK Rowling has never touched on... (NOT a filk to "The Real Slim Shady")


I can't tell you my name. I would get in a lot of trouble if the Ministry of Magic ever found out that I'm communicating with Muggles and acknowledging the fact that the wizarding world exists, but I can no longer keep silent. A wizard with the pseudonym "J.K. Rowling" has published a book series called "Harry Potter." Furthermore, he put a poor woman under the Imperius Curse and is forcing her to admit to writing this literature and passing it off as fantasy fiction.

It's real. All of it. Well, the characters are a bit off. Perhaps it's for dramatic value. I have a dark suspicion that this "J.K. Rowling" is an unregistered Animagus, a wizard who can turn into any ani-- Oh, wait. You know. I'm guessing that's how he's spying on everyone. I reckon he's something like a fly or maybe an ant. In any case, I'm grateful that I haven't even been mentioned in any of these stories. I dislike being in the spotlight and avoid it at all costs.

Anyway, I feel I need to set the record straight. A lot of the characters don't exactly act like their alter egos in the book series. Sure, Harry Potter is usually the center of attention and Hermione Granger is the most clever witch in her year and neither are usually seen without the company of Ron Weasley. And of course, Draco Malfoy is an obnoxious git and Pansy Parkinson is a simpering fool. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle are both big and stupid and Professor Snape does favor his own students above all others.

But then there are those that the author of these so called "fantasy" books got wrong. Sure, George and Fred always get into trouble and look identical… but there's something missing from that. She makes them so alike that it's impossible to tell whether she'd be talking about Fred or George half the time. They have similar traits, but they're not identical in every way. Let me show you…

****

The Real George Weasley

I bit my fingernails nervously as I saw the Gryffindor Quidditch team zoom around the field. The blurs of red were flashing past yellow streaks from Hufflepuff and somewhere in there was my boyfriend, George Weasley. He and his twin brother, Fred, were Beaters for the Gryffindor team, which meant it was their job to keep the Bludgers, two chaos-causing black balls, from hitting the rest of their team. The other players on the team included three Chasers (Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet), a Keeper (Oliver Wood, the team captain) and a Seeker, the famous Harry Potter.

I met George in Potions, the only class we Ravenclaws have with the fifth year Gryffindors. Professor Snape paired me with him, probably trying to spur some sort of inter-house competition. Well, the joke's on him because since day one, George and I have been inseparable. You'd never guess it, though. There's George, always pulling pranks and getting into trouble with his brother and then me, quiet and studious, just trying to get through our O.W.L.s without anything too out of the ordinary happening.

I focused back on the game and squinted my eyes, trying to get a glimpse of George. Normally, I was able to spot his flaming red hair in a crowd, but with the scarlet robes, it was futile. I stood up to get a better look and spotted him down near the Gryffindor goal. I watched as he swung his club with both arms and whacked a Bludger way down to the other end of the field, narrowly missing the Hufflepuff Keeper.

I watched him zoom upward, searching for Harry. George always made a quick check to make sure the Seeker was protected, as he was one of the most important players on the field. The Seeker was the only one on the team to be able to end the game by catching the Golden Snitch, a small walnut sized ball with soft white wings. I kept my eyes on George, not wanting to lose him. Out of nowhere, a Bludger came flying from behind him. I opened my mouth to call out - to warn him, but no sound came out. With a sickening crunch, it collided with his shoulder.

I drew in a sharp breath as he turned, surprised and slipped off his broomstick. I wanted to cover my eyes with my hand and erase what I had just seen, but found myself frozen. George groped blindly for his broomstick and, miraculously, was able to snag the end with his good arm, the injured one dangling limply from its socket. I looked around frantically; someone had to help him. No one else seemed to have noticed, though, and my limbs were still refusing to cooperate.

Then, a number of things happened at once. Fred, George's twin, spotted his brother and soared upwards. He was saying something to comfort his brother as he maneuvered beneath him. I could only watch in wide-eyed horror and hope beyond hope as George dropped and landed perfectly on Fred's broomstick. At the same time, a great cheer went up over on the Gryffindor section: Harry Potter had caught the Snitch. Save Fred and George, the entire team wrapped the famous third year in a huge group hug. I saw Fred slowly drift to the ground, George clutching his shattered shoulder.

I jumped up from my seat and raced downwards, needing to see him. By time I got to the bottom of the stands, Madam Hooch, the referee, had conjured a stretcher for him, but George was shaking his head, saying he was fine. I wanted to smack him right there for being so… so… _George._ Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, was nearby (thankfully) and rushed forward with a bottle of something and her wand. She shoved the bottle into his hand, undoubtedly telling him to drink it, and waved her wand across his shoulder, muttering something.

I raced down the steps that had led up to the high Quidditch stands and across the field to him. George was rubbing his shoulder, but it was obvious that it wasn't as badly injured. He seemed to be making a face at the potion that he was forced to drink and his brother was asking him if he was okay, a rare serious moment for the brothers.

"George Weasley, you could have been killed up there!" I shrieked as he saw me. "That Bludger came out of nowhere!" Fred opened his mouth to say something, but I turned on him. "And you- aren't you supposed to be watching out for your teammates?" He snapped his mouth shut, mouthed something to George that I couldn't see and then trotted off to join the rest of his team in celebration.

"So you… er… saw that, huh?" George said uneasily.

"Of course I did!" I snapped. "Do you think I'm blind? You could have fallen off your broomstick! As a matter of fact, you did!" He was looking at me sadly with his brown eyes and I felt the anger dissipate within me. "Sorry, George," I said. "I just don't want you getting hurt; that's all," I said quietly. After all, it hadn't been _his_ fault that he'd been hit by a Bludger.

"Hey, I'm okay," he said, putting his hands on my upper arms. "Madam Pomfrey gave me a potion to take care of it, but it's okay now. Just a little sore." He smiled at me as Fred called to him from the group huddle.

"Oy! George! Come on, we're celebrating over here!" Fred shouted.

"I have to go," George said. "I'll see you later?" I nodded and watched him walk off towards his teammates. They had all circled around Harry Potter. Sometimes, I felt that Harry got a little too much attention for being Seeker. Some people didn't understand that it was a group effort and Harry would never get the Snitch if George let the Bludgers hit him. 

Not that Harry wanted the attention, mind you. He always seemed a little apprehensive with all of the "fame" stuff, but he never let on verbally. You could always tell, though. He wanted to be as normal as anyone else.

Anyway, back to George. Most people at Hogwarts think he and his brother are identical, inside and out. True, they both have flaming red hair, an explosion of freckles and warm brown eyes with a sparkle of mischief always in the mix. They were both a little tall and lanky, too, but not too thin.

Both of them were troublemakers. If you'd asked me before I met George if I'd ever get involved with someone like that, I'd laugh at you and say no way. Quiet, studious me? No way. The two were always getting into trouble with the janitor, Mr. Filch and the groundskeeper, Rubeus Hagrid for setting off Dungbombs and encouraging Quidditch celebrations that lasted into the early morning hours. Nevertheless, Dumbledore, our headmaster, must have found them amusing, for they hadn't been expelled yet.

That's where the similarities stop. George, when in public and especially with his brother, is loud and exuberant. But when he's alone with me, he's a little more quiet and thoughtful. He's still fun, just not as exhibitionist about it. But I think this author groups them together because in his story, they're only minor characters, not to get nitpicky about. I know differently.

I was thinking of this as I laid in my bed later that night, looking up at the blue drapery around my four-poster bed and trying to will myself to sleep. I heard Cho Chang snoring off to my right and Scarlett Raquel tossing and turning on my left. I had just about convinced my body that it was tired when the hangings on the side of my bed were pulled open quickly.

I sat up straight, scrambling backwards to get away from whatever it was trying to get at me, but saw only George in his dark Hogwarts robes, looking about as startled as I probably did.

"It's okay; it's only me," he assured me in a whisper.

"It's okay?!" I sputtered, my heart rate returning to normal. "You come tearing into my room at an ungodly hour and scare the living daylights out of me and you think it's okay?!"

"Sshh," he said worriedly. "I'm sorry, all right? There's something I need to show you."

"At this hour? _Honestly_, George, can't it wait until morning?" He didn't answer, just looked at me with his sad brown eyes, knowing I'd give in. "Oh, fine! At least go into the common room while I get dressed." I waved my hand at him and he grinned broadly. I heard him leave as I slid out of bed and temporarily wondered how he'd gotten into the Ravenclaw dormitory, then decided it'd be better if I didn't know. There had to be _some_ mystery, right? I dressed quickly and pulled my school robes around me tightly as I stepped into the hallway and went down to the warm common room. George was sitting in one of the poufs by the fireplace and staring intently into the flames. He noticed me and grinned again. Somehow, I knew he had some sort of surprise waiting for me.

"Ready?" he asked, offering his hand as he stood. I nodded silently and let him lead me out of the common room, through the portrait hole and into the hallway. At this point, I began to get worried. What if we were caught? With Filch and his cat, Mrs. Norris, patrolling the halls, plus Peeves, a remarkably annoying poltergeist, bouncing all over the place, we could get into loads of trouble.

"George, we're going to get caught," I said in a worried whisper.

"No, we wo-" Just then, there was a sound ahead of us and George pulled me against the wall with him. I clutched tightly to his robes, trying to make myself as small as possible. Silently, we edged along the hallway and he pulled me with him behind a suit of armor, which was snoring softly. I buried my face against him, hoping that if I couldn't see the other person, then maybe I couldn't be seen. The sound passed and George pulled me away from him. "You all right?" he asked.

"George, we were almost caught," I said, slapping his chest. "I've never had a detention yet and I intend to keep it that way."

"It was only Nearly Headless Nick," George assured me, referring to the Gryffindor ghost. "He would have just told us to go back to bed." He took my hand again. "C'mon, let's go." Sighing and muttering about decrease in common sense in the male population nowadays, I followed him. We hadn't gone far when he pulled me around the corner and we saw a narrow staircase leading up to the Owlery.

"I've _been_ to the Owlery before. Why do we need to go there _now_?" With an exasperated sigh, he stopped and put one arm around my shoulder and the other under my knees, lifting me up.

"You really have to learn to live dangerously once in a while," he teased. I crossed my arms, but I honestly didn't mind him carrying me. It was rather nice actually. He paused in front of the door and nodded towards it. I reached my hand out and opened it.

"Here we are," George announced. I took in my surroundings. There were perches all the way across the room, two windows with cushioned seats by them and cages off to one side for the owls who didn't get along well with others.

I couldn't keep the irritation out of my voice as I said, "Why couldn't you have shown me this at, oh say, four in the afternoon? You know, when _normal _people are awake?" George shook his head, set me carefully down onto the floor, took my hand again and led me over to one of the windows. He sat down and hung his legs out the side, then beckoned for me to sit next to him.

"Do you know how _dangerous_ tha-" He leaned backwards and pulled my towards him.

"You don't trust me?" he asked, looking up at me with those sad eyes again.

"Of course I trust you, but…"

"Sit," he said. I could see no use in arguing with him, so I sat beside him and, reluctantly, put my legs out the window. With both hands, I held onto his robes tightly, pushed him against the side of the window. "You're not going to fall," he assured me. "And even if you did, there's an invisible safety net down there. You'll just float back up." I looked at him and opened my mouth to ask if he'd ever fallen into it, but he was pointing at something off in the distance.

"Look," he whispered, pointing to a spot on the dark horizon just above the treeline of the Forbidden Forest. For a moment, I could see nothing but dark sky. But then suddenly, a small sliver of yellow appeared and I watched with rapt attention as the sliver grew and I could recognize it as the rising sun. The horizon faded from the deep purple into a hazy orange and illuminated the top leaves and branches. My grip on George's robes relaxed, but I leaned closer to him, resting my head against his chest.

"It's so beautiful," I finally murmured. I wondered how long George had known about this and how often he'd watched it alone. He was shifted uncomfortably against me and I saw him moving his hands, unsure of where to put them. Finally, I made the decision for him by lifting his arms and draping them around me. He seemed apprehensive for a moment, not sure exactly what I did, and I gave him a small nod. He relaxed and leaned his head back against the cold stone of the open window, closing his eyes. The sun finally rose all the way above the treeline and cast its early morning glow over the grounds. The giant squid in the lake lazily propelled itself across the length of the water and the first signs of stirring began at Hagrid's cabin.

A warm wave of security came over me. Sitting in George's arms in front of such a beautiful sight calmed me and for the first time in a while, I wasn't worried about O.W.L.s or getting homework done or about Sirius Black, a Dark Wizard who had been Voldemort's second-hand man and had recently broken out of Azkaban, the wizarding prison. He'd been the first to ever do that.

In any case, I wasn't thinking about those morbid things at the time. The warmth of George's arm around me and an early morning breeze coming through to ruffle over the two of us made me curl closer to him, pulling my legs back up to rest on the window sill.

"Are you scared?" he whispered. I looked up at him to see his brown eyes looking down at me, perhaps a little touch of fear in them. "You know, about Black?" I waited a moment before nodding slowly.

"I suppose so. He would never try to get into Hogwarts, though, would he?" George shrugged.

"I dunno… Maybe since Harry brought about You-Know-Who's fall, I reckon Black might want revenge." He avoided my gaze and looked out the window and down towards the Forbidden Forest. "My brother, Ron, is always with him, you know? It makes me… I don't know… nervous." I watched as he looked back at me. I could tell when he looked at me that he wanted me to tell him that everything would be okay. He wanted me to say that Ron wouldn't be in danger and that Sirius Black would be captured by the Azkaban guards, dementors, any day now. He desperately needed reassurance.

I sat up, but didn't pull out of his arms. His eyes searched mine. I couldn't decide if they were scared or just confused.

I took a deep breath before answering: "George, I think that whatever happens will happen for a reason. Sirius Black can't get inside Hogwarts… not as long as Dumbledore's the headmaster here. The entire wizarding world knows that Dumbledore's the greatest wizard since You-Know-Who went into hiding."

"You really think he went into hiding? You don't think he's dead?"

"I don't know, George. I reckon he's not human enough to die. He killed loads of people. How can a human be capable of those things?" I gave an involuntarily shiver and George's arms tightened around me as I placed my head back against his chest.

"I don't know," he whispered. "But I'm scared something's going to happen like what happened to Mi-" He cut off abruptly and I felt his arms stiffen around me.

"What is it?" I asked, sitting up. He pulled his arms away and crossed them in front of his chest. He looked back out the window and down at the lake, letting his legs dangle downward. "George…" I said softly. I put a hand on his wrist. "You can tell me, you know. I won't tell anyone." His eyes returned to mine and he searched my face for any trace of insincerity. Finally, he sighed and began.

"I'm not a twin," he started. My eyebrows shot up. He and Fred looked identical, right down to the mischievous twinkles in their warm brown eyes. The entire Weasley family shared red hair and a platter of freckles, but the similarities between Fred and George were uncanny. "I'm one of triplets." My lips parted in surprise and I put the hand that had been on his wrist over my mouth. His eyes immediately darted to where my hand had been and then away again, back out the window. I put my hand back and it seemed to reassure him somehow.

"Oh, George," I whispered, not knowing exactly what to say. He continued speaking as though I hadn't said anything.

"After I was born, there were six of us kids. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred me and… and Michael. I was the youngest of all of us. Michael was the oldest of the triplets. I don't remember much about him. Only… only blurry images. He died when we were little." He heaved a deep breath and I squeezed his wrist. He smiled weakly, but with gratitude, his eyes still not meeting mine. "I don't think I'm supposed to know. I've never seen any pictures of him. Mum and Dad never mention him. I only know because… because on my fourteenth birthday, I was up late and was going to nick a snack from the kitchen. I reached the bottom of the stairs and… and…" He broke off as his voice cracked and I let go of his wrist to place my hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly. "Mum was sitting down and crying… Dad was rubbing her shoulder and telling her that everything was okay. I wanted to go out there and ask why, but I didn't. I sat and I listened. Mum was… was crying because she missed Michael.. said that Mi- Michael should have been there for his fourteenth birthday and… and said that…" He broke off again and I expected him to let himself cry, but he drew in a ragged breath and continued in a whisper, "'You-Know-Who will pay for taking him away from us.'" At this, he finally stopped speaking and let his head fall forward to his chest.

"George," I whispered, "George, it's okay."

"No, it's not okay!" he exploded. I jumped backwards and scooted away from him, seeing anger in his eyes that I'd never seen before. I felt my back press against the opposite side of the window and my heart rate increased. For the first time ever, I was actually scared of George Weasley. His eyes widened at my reaction and he reached a hand out to me. I didn't flinch away, but I didn't take it either.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to shout. Please." The sadness in his voice made me swallow a lump in my own throat. I forced myself to relax and I sat next to him again, my legs hanging outside the window next to his. He placed his hands in his lap and studied them critically. "But it's not okay. What if… what if something happens to Ron? Mum still cries about Michael and… and it's been ages. Ron almost got himself killed in his first year… second year, too… and now with Sirius Black out…" He swallowed hard and I reached forward into his lap, placing my hand on top of his. "I don't know what to do. I'm supposed to be loud and fun and exuberant like Fred but he doesn't know… he doesn't have to think about it." He sniffed, but I wasn't entirely sure if he was holding back tears.

"George, there isn't much you _can_ do except look out for your little brother and try not to think about it. Do you think your mum would want you upset about Michael? She probably didn't want to tell you for this reason. She thinks you're happy not knowing."

"But I _do_ know," he said, finally looking at me. I could tell that he was going through a lot and he had to handle it all on his own. There was no one else to shoulder the weight or be there to lend an ear. He couldn't turn to any of his family and most certainly not his friends. The only person he'd felt comfortable telling was me and even now he looked as though he was regretting it.

"Thank you for telling me," I said softly. "It means a lot that you trust me with your secret."

"You're the only one I'd ever tell. Maybe I'll tell Fred some day… but I don't want him to be going through this the way I am." He wrapped his fingers around mine and I laid my head against his shoulder. "Thanks for listening."

"I'm always he-" The sound of someone opening the Owlery door. We spun around, thinking that Filch was going to come in and catch us up here. I immediately ran dozens of excuses through my head, each one sounding worse than the last. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw it was only Cho Chang, a Ravenclaw fourth year who played Seeker position on the house Quidditch team, with a piece of parchment in one hand. She looked startled as she spotted us sitting on the window seat.

"Cho!" I squeaked.

"So this is where you ran off to…" she said, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. "You're lucky I told Professor Flitwick that you were down eating breakfast in the Great Hall."

"Oh, thank you," I said, standing. "I honestly don't know what's gotten into me, roaming the school at all hours of the night…"

"…With George Weasley," she finished, unable to keep the smirk off her face. I turned red and looked back at George, who was thoroughly amused by the entire conversation.

"Well, he… you see… I, er…" My shoulder slumped and I saw there was no way I was going to get out of this. "Oh, _sod_ it!" I heard George snicker behind me as he walked easily to my side.

"Shall I escort you to breakfast, my lady?" George asked with an exaggerated bow, offering his arm. I giggled and looped mine into his.

"Why I would be honored." His grin broadened and the two of us left the Owlery, arm in arm. We descended the narrow staircase, turning at the corner and heading for the Great Hall. I began to feel the effects of a sleepless night as we started down another staircase. Suddenly, I realized I must have been looking terrible and my hand flew up to run its fingers through my hair. I encountered no knots, but that didn't mean it looked okay.

"Don't worry about it. You look beautiful," George said. Then, as if realizing he'd been speaking out loud, he flushed a dark red and looked away. I giggled softly and disentangled my arm from his. He looked at me, still a little red, but more confused. I looked down and slid my hand into his. "You _do_," he said quietly. Now it was my turn to blush and I suddenly became very interested in my sneakers. "Come on… We'll be late." He pulled on my hand and we neared the entrance to the Great Hall. Just before we entered, he stopped and I ran into him, bumping into his chest. He put his other arm around me to steady me and I found myself very close to him, my eyes staring intently into his.

"George, I…" I stopped talking, mostly because George's lips were against mine. My eyes widened a moment in surprise, then closed slowly. When we parted, he smiled a little, but didn't move his arms out from around me. I didn't mind.

"What were you saying before Cho interrupted us?" he asked. From the way he looked, it seemed as though the answer was very important to him. I thought for a moment, backtracking through the conversation, then remembered. 

"I just wanted you to know that I'm here to talk to you if you ever need me," I replied, reaching up and brushing a lock of hair out of his eyes absently, making a mental note to tell him to get his hair cut.

"I knew that," he smiled. "Let's go eat quickly. Then we've got the whole day ahead of us."

"George, slow down. We've got our whole lives ahead of us."

So that's my George. Fun-loving, but cautious… exuberant but harboring a dark secret. The author of these "Harry Potter" books lumps him too closely together with his brother and it's really too bad, as George could be an incredible main character. He probably wouldn't like being the star as much as he loves attention, but he's truly quite different than his brother.

George and I are still together to this day, four weeks before our Hogwarts graduation. Last year, a Yule Ball was held in honor of the Triwizard Tournament. George and I had planned to go together, but I fell ill just before the Ball. George wanted to stay in the infirmary with me, but I insisted he go. He argued with me for a while, but Madam Pomfrey said that under no circumstances was he to be allowed to stay that long in the infirmary with me. Reluctantly, he agreed, saying that he wouldn't have any fun without me. How ironic, I thought. I was usually the one who only had fun with him around to balance me out.

Graduation is in two days and the final N.E.W.T.s are going to be finished tomorrow. I'm really nervous, but George keeps reassuring me that I'll do wonderfully. I've been badgering him to study harder, instead of just being _most_ annoying when I'm trying to work. But, as always, he insists on distracting me to his fullest ability.

We've watched countless sunrises since our first one in our fifth year. No matter how many times I see the sun rise above the trees, it always takes my breath away. I've only seen it once by myself, when George went home for the holidays and I was missing him. I wanted to owl him, so I did so… after the sun rose. I sat on the window cushion for a long time after the school owl left with my letter for George.

Since Oliver Wood graduated at the end of our fifth year and the Triwizard Tournament eliminated the school's Quidditch season in our sixth year, a new Quidditch captain wasn't picked until the first week of our seventh season: Fred. I'd never seen him smile that broadly before. George pretended to stage a fight with Fred (out of jealously), but I could tell George didn't want to handle the responsibility. For the fourth time in our seven years, Gryffindor took the Quidditch Cup.

So now you know the truth about George. He's got a lot to shoulder but he deals well with it. He has a mask that he uses to keep distance from the outside world. It's only a half-mask really, as he doesn't shield all of his emotions from those who love him. Like me.

It's about eleven o'clock now and I plan on getting some sleep before George comes to get me in a few hours. Then we're going to go up to the Owlery and watch the sun rise. I can't believe this is most likely going to be the last time we watch it from the Owlery window. I don't need some wizard who decides to reveal all the wizarding world secrets to tell me about my boyfriend, for I know I'll be watching plenty more sun rises with the real George Weasley.

****

* * *

Note: Two years after the author of this piece graduated Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she married George Weasley. In the next ten years after their marriage, they became the parents of three children: Michael, Nicholas and Anastasia. But the perfection of her life was not to last long, for she was killed in a battle against Death Eaters, who had been lashing out in retaliation of their fallen master's death. She passed away in her husband's arms. Her heroic efforts saved the lives of many, including her husband, George, and their three children.

****

As Fleur would say… "Zee End!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Disclaimers**: None of the regular HP characters belong to me… yadda yadda yadda… the only things that are mine are the plot, Michael and the narrator, George Weasley's girlfriend... yadda yadda yadda… (Didja notice I didn't even give her a name? I couldn't decide on one, so I kept her nameless. ::shrugs:: Works pretty well, huh?) They belong to J.K. Rowling.

****

Author's Notes: Due to popular demand to be "introduced" to George, this fic has been created. This is kind of a PWP, but it gives a small insight into what I think George Weasley, one of Harry Potter's smaller characters, could be like when away from his brother and with his girlfriend. Ah… and this takes place during the Weasley twins' fifth year (Harry's third). Oh, and a big thanks to Scarlett and Krystyn Poe, my betas. I couldn't have done it without you!

Oh, and tough luck, Galadriel. He's mine. ::wink::


End file.
